


Phoning The Squad... The GeekSquad That Is

by My_Missing_H



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - GeekSquad, Customer Service, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:26:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1349017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Missing_H/pseuds/My_Missing_H
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt's really not supposed to go on call to fix an Xbox, but what's the harm in it? As long as he's getting paid, it makes no difference to him. Besides, it sounds like the guy is really desperate to fix his console.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phoning The Squad... The GeekSquad That Is

It’s just any old day sitting in his station, hoping desperately a call WON’T come, because Newt honestly doesn’t want to go out on a call in the last hour of his shift. Of course, working in the GeekSquad has its perks: he can lay around and do nothing but still get paid and half of his calls can be solved by just restarting the computer.

Impulsively, he glances at the clock. Fifty-four minutes left in his shift. Right as he began to settle back into his chair, his phone starts ringing. He stared at the device for a second in utter disbelief, then snatched the receiver up to his ear.

“This is GeekSquad, how may I help you?” He spits the words into the phone. The voice that answers back surprises him; unlike the usual fifty-somethings that need help with their emails, this one sounds like a guy around his age.

“Yo, dude, can you work on Xboxes?” He sounded nervous, and Newt has to restrain his laughter a bit.

“I don’t think we’re really supposed to, but I’m pretty good with consoles. I can come take a look at it if you want?” He might as well have something to pass the remaining time left in his shift, he thinks as he scribbles down the guy’s address.

“Dude, you’re a lifesaver. I’ll totally pay you whatever you need for it.”

Newt allows himself to laugh at that. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll be there in five.”

He grabs his keys off the desk after setting the phone back on the cradle. “I’m going out on call!” He shouts to the supervisor in the back room, heading away the office area and out the doors towards the ridiculous little GeekSquad buggy parked out front of the Best Buy he worked at.

It only takes a few minutes for him to drive over to the dude’s apartment, and the second he knocks on the door, it swings open. 

Newt has to take a breath, because this dude is unexpectedly, unfairly gorgeous.

“I-I’m Thomas.” He stammers out, reaching out his hand. Newt grasps it like a lifeline.

“Newt.” He smiles and retracts his hand, taking a step into Thomas’ apartment. “So I hear you got an Xbox for me?”

Thomas laughs and points over at the television. “Yeah, it’s over there.”

Thomas is officially freaking out. He was expecting some pasty fat hairy loser to come knocking on his door, not some guy with his tight GeekSquad polo and tight fitting khaki-colored jeans and foreign accent that sat somewhere in between British and Australian. And right as Newt kneels down to try and boot up the Xbox, Thomas realizes that his apartment is a pigsty.

He scrambles to pick the pizza boxes up from the couch and get all the soda cans cleaned up, while Newt is busy frowning, squatting next to his TV and taking out a small screwdriver to open up the console's casing.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Thomas is worried about his Xbox, the closest thing to a baby he's willing to have in this stage of his life, but Newt just turns around and flashes him a winning smile.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. Five more minutes, tops." This job was a piece of cake.

Well, until he hears Thomas yell “Shit!” from behind him and suddenly his back is wet as a now-empty can of Code Red rolls to a stop next to him.

“Aw shit bro, um,” Thomas hits the heel of his hand against his temple a couple times, “let me wash that for you, you can use one of my hoodies or something.”

Newt stands and nods, careful not to let any of the soda dripping from his shirt land on his pants or the exposed Xbox hard drive.

Thomas tosses him a black hoodie and turns around. “There you go.” 

Newt quickly strips off his shirt and pulls the thankfully dry hoodie over his head.

“Here,” he mutters as he holds out his shirt, and Thomas turns around to grab it before running down the hall quickly. Newt can hear the sound of a washing machine turn on a few seconds later before Thomas comes running back into the living room.

“It should be done really quickly. The stain didn’t have time to set or anything. I’m so sorry.” Newt just shakes his head.

“I’ve had plenty worse to deal with on calls, bro, you’re fine.” A breeze suddenly blows in from a nearby window, and he’s finds himself surrounded with a pleasant smell. He leans down to experimentally sniff the hoodie he’s wearing and discovers the source.

“What kind of cologne do you wear? This smells nice.” Thomas looks at him and blinks a few times before responding.

“Um, Axe.” And he laughs a little bit as Newt kneels back down to jiggle a few things inside the Xbox.

“It should work now, but just in case, I’d probably back up your saves to an external hard drive.” He stands and turns to Thomas.

Thomas suddenly realizes that he doesn’t want this guy to leave. Not yet, anyway. “Do you wanna stick around or something? Maybe play a couple games?”

Newt laughs and looks down at his watch. “Well, my shift is technically over, I just have to go do some paperwork before my boss lets me off. I could come back afterwarss if you want?”

Thomas smiles, “Yeah, I'd like that, it’d be cool to chill.” He gulps as Newt takes a step closer to him.

“I’ve never met a dude who’d willingly get his ass kicked by me in Black Ops 2, but I’m not gonna arg-” His sentence is cut off by Thomas leaning down to press their lips together.

Newt pulls back quickly, and theg stare at each other for a heartbeat.

“I’ve gotta go do some paperwork,” Newt says hurriedly, and he practically sprints out the door.

Thomas fucked up, he absolutely knows he fucked up, but the guy was so close to him, and his lips were just right there, and he couldn't help himself, but the fact is that Thomas fucked up big time. He presses his head to the now closed front door and sighs deeply before hitting the frame with the side of his fist.

Down the hall, the washing machine dings. “I’ll apologize when he comes back for his shirt,” he says to himself as he throws the shirt into the dryer.

But by the time the dryer beeps and the shirt is all clean and dry and folded neatly (or as neat as Thomas could manage), Newt still hasn’t come back.

Thomas lays face down on the couch with the shirt next to his head. “I fucked up, didn’t I?” He asks it, shaking his head when he realizes he just talked to a folded shirt. 

He wanted Newt to come back.

Newt pulls his crappy sedan up to the apartment building and slams the door shut, running as fast as he can up to the apartment door and knocking on it.

Thomas pulls open the door and looks at him incredulously, clutching the shirt to his chest. 

“I’ve got your shir-” he starts, but this time it’s Newt’s turn to silence someone with a kiss, flipping Thomas around the door and slamming it closed as his tongue briefly finds its way past chapped lips.

He pulls back with a devilish grin on his face, “I’m ready to kick your ass in Black Ops 2 now.”

Thomas smiles, “You wish.”


End file.
